


to keep a secret

by itsmylifekay



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Blood, Bobby is Buck's dad and no one can tell him otherwise, Eddie gets his shit together, Friends to Lovers, M/M, No Beta, Post 3x06, hurt!buck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 23:27:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: Things are settling down after the lawsuit, but Eddie's new hobby isn't something Buck can get behind. He doesn't know how to get him help without sending the whole house of cards crashing down, so resolves to do it himself-- and in true Buck fashion winds up in the hospital for his efforts.





	to keep a secret

Life at the 118 is mostly back to normal, and for that Buck will be eternally grateful. Sure, he wasn’t exactly welcomed back with open arms, but part of him knew he deserved that for what he put everyone through. The other part didn’t even care because in the end he was back with his family, anything else could be figured out with time. He was _home._

Eddie had forgiven him. Bobby had rushed to the ER to be with him. Hen and Chimney had gotten back to their unique brand of friendly teasing and camaraderie. It was perfect.

Except for how it wasn’t.

It had taken him approximately thirty seconds to see something was up with Eddie. One hug to know something was really wrong. He had never expected it to be something so dangerous though, something so stupidly reckless that Eddie had everything to lose: his life, his job, even Christopher.

And he refused to see reason. Nothing Buck said or did deterred him. Not when he said he was worried, or scared. Not when he said Christopher didn’t need to lose another parent. Not when Buck said he couldn’t handle losing his best friend.

Every time was the same. “I can’t stop, Buck. It’s the only way I can let out all the anger I’m feeling. There’s nothing else I can do and I can live with it all burning up inside me.”

So yeah, he’s back. He goes to the station and spends time with everyone, falls back into a routine and it’s great, he can almost trick himself into thinking everything’s as it should be until he catches sight of Eddie wincing through a workout, or stifling a groan when someone slaps him on the back. It makes him want to scream and throw things around, go to Bobby’s office and demand he make it stop, demand someone _do _something. But he knows what’s at stake—what could happen if someone higher up in the department found out.

So he shuts up. And he watches. And he does everything he can to try and make sure Eddie’s okay, to protect him from the outside in all the ways Eddie can’t seem to protect himself.

Which is exactly why on a gross Saturday morning, rain coming down in a depressing drizzle and sky a grey, milky soup, Buck is the one up on the ladder, chest pressed to the rungs as he cuts away one of the iron bars of a fire escape railing. Some kid had thought it’d be fun to go outside while they were home alone, thought it’d be even more fun to look down at the streets below, and gotten stuck between two of the metal bars. Thankfully a neighbor had been home to call for help.

But yeah, Buck is up three stories lying against the ladder because Eddie’s too bruised to even let Buck sling an arm around his shoulders. He’s got a real shiner on his face, too, one that probably wouldn’t be great for dealing with a scared little kid.

He cuts through the top and bottom of the bar, then carefully pulls the whole thing away, telling the kid, Dylan, to lean back until Buck is ready to safely escort him to the ground. Except Dylan has one last trick up his sleeve for them that catches Buck by surprise the moment he gets him in his arms and looks down to begin their descent.

There is, apparently, a spider on the underside of the fire escape.

Dylan is, apparently, deathly afraid of spiders.

He lets out a blood curdling scream and jerks in Buck’s hold, scrabbling to get away from the penny-sized thing that’s already over a foot away. With the ladder wet with rain, it’s just enough motion for Buck to momentarily lose his footing. He smacks his head pretty hard on the ladder, feels the side of his helmet dig pretty hard into his skin.

He has to take a moment to bite back a curse, but ultimately he manages to make a hasty descent for both Dylan and himself, retreating to the ground where Hen and Chimney are waiting to look the boy over. Eddie is waiting at the bottom, too, and Buck is glad for it when he sways slightly after hopping down from the truck.

“Whoa, you alright, Buck?” Eddie has a hand on his elbow and a worried crease to his brow.

Buck nods, finding his footing and becoming more and more aware of a steady throbbing in his head. He can feel wetness trickling down the side of his face and neck that’s a little too warm to be from the rain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Think my head’s still ringing from that scream.” He grins and mimes cleaning out his ear, gives Eddie’s shoulder a barely-there squeeze before hopping into the back of the truck.

The kid is fine, just shaken, and they leave him with a couple of police officers who are responsible for dealing with his parents. The ride back is uneventful, but out of the rain Buck can definitely feel the sticky warmth of blood on his face, neck, and now the fabric of his shirt. He leans his head back against the seat, face angled away from the others, and prays that they won’t bother him about it. It’s early enough in the morning they’ll hopefully write it off as him being tired and wet and just not feeling like talking.

He doesn’t want them to worry, but he mostly doesn’t want Eddie to know. He knows it’ll make him upset, make him _angry_—that Buck was up there instead of him, when it _should _have been him. Buck is terrified of Eddie’s anger, knows that it means blood and beatings and the possibility of Eddie never coming home. So he doesn’t say anything.

But he’s not stupid, or at least not as stupid as some would like to believe, because he catches Bobby’s eye as soon as they unload the truck and the older man is at his side immediately, following him to a quiet corner of the garage.

“What’s wrong?”

Buck looks over Bobby’s shoulder to make sure no one else is listening, but keeps his voice low just in case.

“When I hit my head, I think I cut myself on something in my helmet. I don’t think it’d be a big deal normally, but…”

“But you’re on blood thinners.” Buck nods and Bobby lets out a quiet curse. “I knew I should’ve made you take off the damn helmet. How bad do you think it is?”

Buck takes quick stock of his body, of the continued throbbing in his head and the way everything has gotten ever so slightly loose at the edges.

“Feel kind of weird, if I’m honest. Think my t-shirt might be a new color than when I bought it.”

Bobby curses again and turns, obviously ready to call for Hen and Chimney and generally draw attention to the situation. Buck grabs his arm, stumbles slightly at the sudden movement and has to blink away spots while Bobby grabs him tightly by the elbows.

“Don’t yell.”

Bobby looks at him like he’s crazy. “What? Buck I’m not—”

“Don’t yell,” Buck says again. “Eddie, he—he can’t know. Please.”

Something flashes over Bobby’s face that he can’t catch, and he’s starting to feel worse by the moment, doesn’t even fight it when Bobby puts an arm around his waist, gets Buck’s arm around his shoulders, and starts hauling him back towards the truck.

He blinks and Chimney’s hovering over him, gloved hands plucking at his helmet until it comes free with a nasty, wet sound. Someone else is working on his jacket.

Warmth drips further across his face. Something is pressed to the side of his head and voices swim just above him.

There are sirens. More voices.

And then only silence.

\--

He comes to with the distinct feeling that he’s once again fucked up and jeopardized the very career he’s worked so hard to protect. His head hurts, which is never a good sign, and the methodical beeping around him means he’s once again managed to land himself in the hospital. At least this time he has full mobility of all his toes and nothing is screaming at him in pain.

He forces his eyes open and the first thing he sees is Maddie sitting beside him, staring at her phone and clutching a cup of coffee tightly in hand.

“Maddie.” His voice doesn’t sound great, but it’s not the craggily, barren desert of someone who’s been in a coma for a week. A good sign.

She turns to look at him immediately and sets down her phone to grab his hand.

“Hey, glad you’re awake.” She squeezes his fingers and he squeezes back. “But you’ve really got to stop doing this,” she reaches up and traces the gauze on his forehead, smiling gently. “Before long they’re not even going to take ‘medical emergency’ as a reason for me to leave work. You’re lucky you’re infamous or they wouldn’t believe me.”

The joking is also a good sign, and Buck allows himself a smile.

“Guess I didn’t screw up too bad then? If you’re already harassing me about making you miss work?”

“You didn’t mess up at all, Buck.” She sits back in her chair and shakes her head. “Only you could manage to hit your head on your helmet and wind up in the hospital. You’re a special kind of accident prone.”

It hits Buck like a brick wall.

The ladder. Dylan. Bobby in the station garage.

The _station. _They were at the station. And Eddie was at the station, but now Buck’s in the hospital and Eddie isn’t here and fuck, _what time is it_, because if it’s already night and Eddie’s out getting hit because Buck couldn’t keep his blood in his goddamn head he’s—

“-ck Buck! _Evan_.”

There’s a hand on his face and Maddie is looking at him with much more concern than before.

“Hey,” she says, once he gets his eyes to focus on her face. “What was that?”

“Eddie,” he gasps. “Where’s Eddie?”

He knows it’s not at all subtle and part of him is screaming that this is supposed to be a secret, that one of the reasons he almost bled out in the back of the truck is to keep Eddie safe. But he can’t tell anyone to go look for Eddie without putting him in danger and he can’t protect Eddie himself without Eddie getting mad and putting _himself _in more danger. It’s a horrible, tangled web and he knows panicking isn’t helping but blood loss and the disorientation of waking up in the hospital has him operating at less than peak form.

“Eddie’s waiting out in the hall,” Maddie says. She takes his hand again and urges him to look back at her. “He’s with Bobby. They both came back as soon as their shift was done.”

Buck nods. “Can I talk to them?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” She pats his hand one last time before standing and making her way out the door, only gone for a minute before there’s a brief knock and Bobby takes her place, rushing over when he sees Buck levering himself up, hand solid and warm between his shoulder blades.

“You really have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you kid?”

Buck looks down at his lap and thinks back to how Bobby had said he wasn’t ready. How often he’s been hurt before and how he’s been kept off of more dangerous calls for the same reason he’s sitting here now. And this had been a minor head wound. What if it had been something worse?

“It’s why you didn’t want me to come back, isn’t it?”

Bobby sighs and sits in Maddie’s vacated chair. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to come back, Buck. It’s that I didn’t want you to get hurt. And yes, it’s because of things like this. Because you’re still on blood thinners and vulnerable in a way that I’m not comfortable with.”

He takes a minute to process that, studies the backs of his hands and prepares himself for the question he’s about to ask.

“Am I off duty again?”

“You’re going to be on light duty and taking a backseat on more dangerous calls, but no, I’m not pulling you out of work. However,” he drops into his more serious, captain voice and Buck immediately snaps his eyes up to look at him. “You and Eddie need to have a serious talk. I’ve already said something to him, but whatever is going on that you two feel like you can’t tell me has to stop.” He searches Buck’s face and frowns. “I’m aware Eddie was supposed to be up on the ladder this morning and I’m not sure why he wasn’t. I won’t push for answers now, but I will if this doesn’t resolve itself by the next time you both set foot in the station. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, it’s clear.” He rubs at one of his eyes, suddenly feeling like he wants to crawl back under the covers and pass out until all of this is behind him. If only life could work that way.

Bobby claps him on the shoulder and gives him a gentle shake. “Rest up, Buck. I’ll see you soon.”

Buck stares at the far wall in his absence, mind whirling and trying to pick apart the last parts of the conversation. He has his job, so that’s good. But Bobby said he has to talk to Eddie? He said he’d already talked to him? But talked to him about what? And how much does Bobby actually know and how much does Buck actually have to say to Eddie to make things go back to normal enough for Bobby to let them both off the hook? His head hurts thinking about it and a throbbing starts up between his temples that has nothing to do with the stitches on the side of his head.

The sound of an awkward, muffled cough has his head snapping back towards the door.

Eddie is standing in the threshold, shoulders slumped and looking more broken than Buck has seen him in a long time.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He doesn’t make a move to come any closer.

“Hey.” Buck tries for a smile. He sits up a little straighter, then freezes, wonders how the hell he can angle his body so that Eddie doesn’t have to look at the wrappings around his, or at least not the thicker ones obviously covering stitches.

There’s a sigh and then Eddie finally steps forward, puts a hand on Buck’s arm that moves up to his shoulder. “Stop thinking so hard.”

Buck swallows and nods, tries again for a smile. Turns his head so the worst of it is out of Eddie’s view.

And Eddie’s face crumples. He reaches out with his free hand and gently, so, so gently guide’s Buck’s head in the other direction. He stares at the bandages there and lets out a sound that sounds one step away from a sob.

“Buck,” he says. “Why did you—You almost—” He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “I was so scared today.” He lets his hand drop from Buck’s face and takes a step back, like he can’t bear to touch him.

Buck shifts uncomfortably on the bed. He wonders if there’s any way he can get Eddie to stay with him tonight. At least that would be one less night to worry about him out on the streets.

“I thought I was going to lose you again,” Eddie says. He lets out another shaky breath. “And the worst part? The worst part is that it would’ve been my fault.”

“No, no I—it wouldn’t, Eddie. I went up there on my own. Besides, it was just a freak accident. A slippery ladder, a weird strap in my helmet, and some unfortunately timed blood thinners. It’s not anyone’s fault. Except maybe the spider’s.”

Eddie doesn’t smile at the joke, just shakes his head. “No, Buck. We both know why you went up that ladder instead of me. This would never have happened if I hadn’t made you feel like I was too hurt to do my job.” He looks away and runs a hand over his face, can’t quite hide the redness around his eyes.

Buck swallows. “Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Eddie looks back to him, at the tense line of his shoulders. “Is that what you’re worried about? That _I’m _mad?” His hands clench into fists at his sides and his voice gets tighter. “Not that I nearly got you killed and have somehow managed to endanger everyone I love with my stupid, impulsive decisions… No, Buck. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself, if anything.”

“Okay.” Buck nods. “That’s—yeah. Okay.” He’s not really okay with any of it, or surprised for that matter. There’s things he wants to argue, things he wants to question and challenge, but in the end he just feels too tired at the moment to try again when every time all he’s gotten is the same, stubborn refusal. So he goes for broke. Hopes his puppy-dog eyes are as effective as Maddie once claimed them to be.

“Can you just promise me something? Please?”

Eddie takes a step closer. “Of course, Buck. Whatever you need.”

“Promise you won’t go out tonight?”

And it’s like all Eddie’s strings have been cut. He looks at Buck with a pained expression, leans against the bed like he suddenly can’t hold up his own weight. He reaches down and takes one of Buck’s hands in his own.

“I promise.” His voice breaks in the middle and Buck can clearly see at least one tear making its way down his cheek. “I promise, because I’m going to take you home with me. And you can have my car keys and I won’t go anywhere.”

He looks up at Buck and Buck’s breath catches in his chest at what he sees there. It’s recognition, it’s apologies and regret and pain all threatening to spill over.

Eddie reaches up and tentatively cups the side of Buck’s face in one hand, traces his thumb across his cheekbone. “I promise I won’t fight anymore. I _promise._ And I’m sorry for not listening to you sooner. For putting you in danger. For jeopardizing my team, my family.”

“I believe you,” Buck says. Another tears drips down Eddie’s cheek and he looks away. Buck wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, presses his thumb into the pulse there, warm and strong. “And I forgive you. Because that’s what teams do.”

\--

When Buck walks in for his first shift a week later, it’s with Eddie at his side. Bobby takes one look at the two of them and nods, mumbles something about two idiots finally getting their shit together and disappears back into his office. He makes Buck’s favorite food for dinner and no one says anything about it.

They do, however, have plenty to say about Buck and Eddie holding hands beneath the table.

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr, same username. yell at me and i'll probably write more


End file.
